


Ignis

by overcastskeleton



Series: Hidden Confessions [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Din might be a little OOC but oh well, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Takes place after The Mandalorian, happy new years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:40:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22058674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overcastskeleton/pseuds/overcastskeleton
Summary: Din comes back to the reader after five years of silence
Relationships: Din Djarin x reader, Din Djarin/Reader, Mando/reader, Mando/you, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian x reader
Series: Hidden Confessions [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1582198
Comments: 16
Kudos: 298





	Ignis

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, the final part of this series! I definitely didn't intend to write three parts, but I'm glad I did. Enjoy!

Din stares at his reflection in the grimy mirror. His eyes trace the worn, tired wrinkles, and take in his scruffy face and shaggy hair. 

He wasn’t usually one to fret about appearances, having spent most of his life wearing a helmet, but all that changed in the past year since he’d broken the Creed. Now, he’s on display constantly. It’s a feeling of weakness he has yet to get used to. 

Din splashes water on his face, watches the rivlets run down his cheeks and disappear into the neckline of his clean white shirt. 

_ Civilian clothing _ . The soft cloth still feels foreign against his skin, and sometimes he catches himself longing for the cold, familiar touch of beskar.

His hand trembles as he brings the razor to his face. In the wake of shedding his armor, a beard has replaced the helmet that once shielded his face. He strips it away in methodical strokes. He wants you to see him, the real him. The man behind the layers of armor that made him a detached soldier. 

Thinking about you seeing him sends his heart into a frenzy, and makes cold sweat break out on his tanned skin. He hates it.

Din’s faced certain death several times, battled countless enemies without so much as a second thought, but seeing you for the first time in years makes his hands shake. He clenched them into fists by his side. 

His face is clean shaven now, and he seems to revert to the man he was before he swore an oath to the way of the Mandalore. At least on the outside. His Mandalorian years have left an internal mark that no amount of time can remove. It’s this mark that Din worries you won’t be able to look past. 

When he looks in the mirror, he sees a mess of scars, wrinkles, and imperfections. He doesn’t know what you’ll read, or the stories that will fill your mind. He just hopes that whatever you see, you’ll still want him. 

He pulls on a jacket and exits the old ship. It’s so quiet these days. There’s no cooing or crying or the rattling of metal as the Child, gets into random trouble. He misses the little womp rat, more than he cares to admit, and briefly wonders what it would be like to have one of his own. But he pushes the thought from his mind, there’s no guarantee you’ll even accept him, let alone want to start a family with him.

The little town you call home is quiet. Not much has changed since he last walked the streets. But there’s one noticeable difference. 

Din is invisible, or so it seems. Eyes don’t stick to him like they used to. In fact no one even spares him a second glance. There are no curious stares or suspicious glares. Their eyes slide right past him as if he was just another member of society. Because now he is, just another random face in a sea of uninteresting people. He prefers it this way, if he’s being honest, never really liked being the center of attention or the basis of legends. 

The small cantina comes into view, and Din slows, almost halting completely. The building seems to loom over him, trapping him in it’s dark shadow. 

He approaches it slowly, walking on legs that feel fettered with lead. His heartbeat pounds in his ears and his palms suddenly feel sweaty. It’s a feeling of dread that he’s unfamiliar with. Then again, all of this is uncharted territory. 

Din stops when he reaches the hatch unable to move any farther. He stares at the corroded door, shackled him in place by the memories of that night. 

The idea that you maybe you don’t even want to see him never crossed his mind before, but seems very likely now. 

Din shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, heavily debating bolting before you see him. It’s been five years after all, you’ve probably moved on, started a new life, maybe even found someone else. The images makes his stomach lurch. 

“Hey buddy!” A hand lands on his shoulder, and Din jumps, fingers reaching for the blaster tucked into the waistband of his pants. 

People might have stopped trying to kill him a while ago, but old habits die hard.

The hand on his shoulder belongs to a pudgy man, whose eyes widen when Din presses the blaster to his nose. 

“ _ Whoa _ ,” he says, throwing his hands up. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Din swears under his breath and put the blaster away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--  _ shit _ .” 

“No hard feelings.” The man shakes his head. “You look like you’re staring down the barrel of a gun.” 

It’s not an accurate comparison. Din’s stared down many guns, and it never felt like the fear he feels now. 

But he’s not gonna bare his soul to a random stranger, not sober at least. So, he puts on a flimsy paper smile, releases the tension from his body and says, “Yeah, something like that.”

“You need a drink, natural medicine.” The man says jovially and opens the hatch. “You coming?” 

Din steels himself for whatever he’s about to see when he walks inside. 

It’s funny how one step can alter the course of your whole life forever. Forwards or backwards, it doesn’t matter, the ripple will travel forever.

Go inside the cantina, see the woman you left alone all those years ago or leave and never see her again. The possibilities that may come from as a result of those two decisions are endless. But each comes with a first step, and as Din hears the loud laughter and catches glimpses of true happiness in the small bar, he finally feels ready to make his.

“Well?” His new friend raises an eyebrow. 

Din inhales deeply, and takes the first of many. “Yeah, I’m coming.

* * *

You waited for him after he left, everyday for a year. After 365 days of continuous disappointment, you faced the inevitable.

He wasn’t coming back. 

The revelation that soon followed was just as painful as the first: you had driven him away. 

It didn’t matter that it was completely unfounded, or that Din was dealing with his own fears, and chose to walk away as well. You were convinced it was solely your fault, and there wasn’t a single soul in the galaxy who could tell you otherwise.

You suffered in silence, built a dam against your pain to hold it back. But pressure builds, and it swells and intensifies, chipping away at your constructed walls until eventually, they crack. And boy were they about to crack, because the man who you’ve been suppressing feelings for is about to walk back into your cantina, shattering the very notion that you had ever  _ actually  _ moved on.

But, I guess no one ever really expects a reunion with a lover they haven’t seen in five years.

You’ve been out all afternoon, running errands and getting supplies. It’s almost closing time when you make it back. 

As expected, it’s nearly empty. Jael, your new business partner, has never been one to dawdle when closing, and typically clears the bar ten minutes before the doors actually shut. 

The only person left is a scruffy looking man sitting in the back corner. He looks up briefly when the door opens, gaze drifting over to you for a moment, before swiftly returning to the drink he’s idly nursing. Strange, but not out of the ordinary. Jael has been known to take pity on the occasional stranger, so long as they’re not causing trouble. 

You walk behind the bar, arms laden with a couple heavy boxes. The sound of them hitting the counter flags the attention of the stranger, and brings Jael out from the back room.

“Hey boss.” She grins, leaning beside you. 

“Partner,” you correct her, but it’s only half the truth. Since joining your staff five years ago, Jael quickly rose from the rank of employee, to partner, to your closest friend. “How was it today?” 

“Historic low for fights, although there were a few spats.” Jael reports. “Had a Twi’lek try to drink us out of our ale, had to cut him off. He didn’t like that much, but I handled it.” She shrugs. 

You nod, eyes scanning the room and landing on the man. He’s openly staring at you now, with a hint of curiosity in his gaze. 

“And uh, who’s that?” You mumble, starting to unpack the box. 

“Came in a few hours ago asking to see you. Told him you were out but you’d be back later, and he said he’d wait. It seemed a little fishy, so I’ve been keeping a close eye on him. He ordered a drink halfway through, but hasn’t taken so much as a sip.” Jael spouts, words tumbling from her lips at a mile a minute.

You peek up at the stranger, had moved back to studying his drink in deep concentration. “Alright, I’ll get rid of him and finish closing up.” 

Jael’s eyes narrow at the stranger. “But-” 

“Go home.” You push her shoulders. “You’ve been here all day.”

She stands silently rooted to the spot, her lips purse as her gaze shifts from you to the stranger and back again. 

“I’ll be fine, ex bounty hunter, remember?” You lift up your long shirt to show the blaster tucked in a holster on your waist. 

Jael sighs. “Fine.” She casts one last weary glance. “Send up a flare if you need me.” 

“I will.” You hug her quickly and steer her in the direction of the door. 

When she’s gone, you approach the stranger. He watches you walk towards him, but doesn’t speak. Not even when you stop in front of him. His expression is hard to decipher; a mix of awe and trepidation. It’s too personal a look to belong to a stranger. You swear you’ve never met this man before in your life, but he obviously knows you. 

“Sir, we’re closing,” you inform him, twiddling with your thumbs behind your back. 

His gaze is unnerving, not because it makes you uncomfortable, but because it seems to blaze right through you in an all too familiar way. 

“Sir?” A nervous smile breaks out across his face, and he scoffs. “I guess it was kind of silly of me to hope that you’d recognize me.” 

The voice makes you freeze. It’s one you’ve only heard sparingly, but you’d recognize it in a sea of thousands. It tears the breath from your lungs, makes a shiver crawl down your spine, and you stare in shock at the man you’d once thought a stranger.

“Mando.” You take a step back involuntarily. 

His eyes track your movement, and his eyebrows pinch together in a brief moment of disappointment. “Din.” He gestures to his face. “I don’t uphold the Creed anymore...clearly...”

“I--What are you doing here?” You can barely hear the sound of your voice over the blood pounding in your ears. 

He weighs his words for a moment, and you can tell that he’s running through every bad possible outcome. “I missed you,” he says finally. He’s nervous, an unusual look for the man who used to walk around with such a confident swagger. 

Those three words send a pang of anger straight through your heart. You stare at him frozen in place as your heartbeat rises to a crescendo. Years of nothing from him and then he suddenly darkens your doorstep, this time sans helmet, and tell you he misses you. This isn’t happening, not after you finally accepted that he was just part of your past. 

Hot, angry tears fill your eyes, and before you can even stop them, they’re spilling down your cheeks. You take a step back, unprepared for the onslaught of emotions. You were always so hesitant to feel anything for him, but in this moment, it all comes crashing down on top of you. All the anger, heartbreak, and pain of betrayal you’ve kept hidden for years rushes out of you. 

You laugh, dark and humorless. “You missed me?” Your fingers clutch your sides as you desperately try to hold yourself together. “Five fucking years of absolute silence and you just show up again and say ‘I missed you.’ Is that supposed to make me forgive you?  _ You left _ .” 

“What was I supposed to do?” His calm voice deeply contrasts the rolling storm inside of you. “I opened myself up to you and told you my name and you just threw it back in my face. You pushed me away.”

“Because I was fucking terrified of losing you!” You shout, and it stuns him into silence. “What we had was so easy, and emotions complicate everything! And I was so scared that you would leave me if you didn’t feel the same, and you  _ did _ .” You were unravelling now, so tired of holding everything inside. 

The walls that you built to protect you suddenly seem overbearing, trapping you in claustrophobic cycle of fear. You sink into a chair, shoulders heaving as sobs rack your body. 

“I waited for you for a year.” You drop your head into your hands. “Every single day, I hoped that you’d come back, but you didn’t.” 

“I didn’t think you wanted me,” Din admits quietly, taking a step towards you. 

You look up at him, eyes rimmed with red. “Of course I wanted you. But you were a bounty hunter, and a Mandalorian. There wasn’t a future for us. So, I lied, and I pushed you away, because I didn’t want to fall in love and risk losing you. God, I should have just told you, I was so stupid.” 

Din kneels in front of you, takes your hands and rests them against his face. “If I had known all of that five years ago, I would have never left.” He kissed your palm gently. “Maybe there wasn’t a future for us then, but I came back because I didn’t want to be without you. And I’m so sorry it took me all this time to figure that out. But I was a goner the moment I met you.” 

He’s looking up at you with such adoration, that it thaws the fear in your heart. You smile, and for the first time you have hope that maybe, _just_ _maybe_ , this could work. 

“ _ Din _ .” His name conveys a thousand emotions. Fear. Pain.  _ Love _ . All infused into one word. The thing that once broke you two apart, is the thing that mends you both together. 

“I’m here.” He doesn’t need to say the other three words he’s thinking, his tone expresses them perfectly.

Din leans forward, captures your lips in a way that says everything and nothing all at the same time. You hold him closer, thumbs moving soft circles over his jaw. Din’s arms wrap around you, molding you to his body, as he kisses you with reckless abandon. His lips part yours, and he tastes familiar and comforting. 

You pull away with a gasp. “What took you so damn long?” You mumble against his lips. 

Din rests his forehead against yours, and sighs. He can’t exactly pinpoint the moment that made him come back to you. It really was a culmination of the events that led to him nearly dying in an old dirty bar on Nevarro and all the ones since that made him realize he didn’t want to live without you. While most battles leave men like him hardened, the past five years have weathered down his jagged edges and left him tender, ready to feel again.

It’s a story he’s not even sure he’s ready to tell, but one you need to hear. 

“I’ve had a crazy couple of years.” He wipes the tears from your eyes, practices the comforting intimacy he’s only just recently learned. 

You can tell. Din looks worn and weary. But there’s a light in those chocolate brown eyes of his. You read the lines on his face, but where Din only sees the marks of his past, you see the potential of his future. 

You kiss him again, shorter this time but still full of passion. “Why don’t you tell me about them over a few drinks?”

* * *

You wake the next morning to fleeting touches along your side, a slight headache and no real memory of how you ended up back at your house. But you are home, and you’re not alone. You can tell that by the sound of light breathing that accompanies the rise and fall of whoever’s chest you’re sleeping on. 

Your eyes open slightly, and you recoil at the sharp morning light that infiltrates your bedroom. The warm chest you’re lying on belongs to the ex-bounty hunter you apparently took home the night before. The pieces begin to fall into place slowly. Din showed up at your bar, you had a rather tearful reunion, talked and drank some and then...the rest of the night becomes a hazy rush.

“I brought you home last night.” Din says, as if reading your thoughts. 

“Did we?” You let the question hang in the air, too flushed to finish it. 

He chuckles, and his chest rumbles underneath your cheek. “Have sex?” His morning voice is deep and husky, and your face warms in spite of yourself. “No, you were too drunk.” He fills in the gaps of your memory. “I got you in bed, but when I tried to leave you started whining, so…”

“You stayed.” 

“Of course I stayed.” 

You bury your face into his shoulder, equal parts embarrassed at your actions and happy that he stayed. You won’t admit it, but a part of your worried that he would be gone when you awoke, or  _ worse _ , that yesterday was just a dream. 

“I just got you back, I’m not going anywhere else without you,” Din reassures you. “Even though you get really talkative when you’re drunk,” he teases offhandedly, thumb rubbing circles over the leg slung around your waist. “But no one’s perfect.” 

You groan, glaring up at him. “Suddenly you’ve gained a sense of humor.” 

“It was cute.” He kisses your forehead. “Seriously. It kept me up for a while, but cute all the same.” 

“Maybe I made a mistake letting you spend the night.” 

“You begged me actually,” Din gives you a shiteating grin. 

You roll your eyes, but you know you’d do anything to get him to look at you like he is now; eyes alight with a grin so wide his cheeks dimple. 

You shift upwards, and prop yourself up on your elbow to look down at him. 

He raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth to speak, but you shush him. 

Your eyes study his face slowly. You’d stared at him all last night, but it wasn’t enough. You’re convinced you’ll never tire of looking at him. 

So this is the man behind the helmet. Din Djarin the infamous Mandalorian, lying in your bed, looking shockingly human with his messy bedhead and sleepy smile. 

You run your fingers through his hair, brushing it out of his face so you can see every bit of him. The intensity with which you’re looking at him makes his own gaze wonder.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” you whisper, fingers tracing the lines etched into his face. “Why you’d keep a face like this covered up is beyond me.” 

His skin heats under your touch, but his voice is even when he speaks. “It was the Way.” 

You hum under your breath, fingers continuing the path over his face. He kisses your fingertips when they reach his lips. You rub the stubble that’s starting to grow on his chin and he groans. 

“Are you done staring?” Din asks, hand coming to rest on your hips. “Because I would really like to kiss you now.” 

You bite your bottom lip and nod. “Ye--”

The word barely leave your lips before Din is rolling over on top of you. You squeal, but the sound is muffled by his eager lips. 

He kisses the life out of you, and his hands roam your body slowly, as if he’s trying to relearn the touch of his skin on yours. They slip under the shirt you’re wearing, caress the curve of your hips. His touch brings goosebumps to the surface of your soft skin, and you moan against his lips. 

Your fingers curl into his hair and tug at it lightly. Din bites your bottom lip in response, and soothes over it with the tip of his tongue. 

“Din,” you whisper, as a shudder works its way through you. 

He kisses you slower, savoring the way his name drips from your lips like honey. It’s sweet yet tangy, laced with affection and sharp lust at the same time. Din immediately starts plotting a way to hear you say it again. 

Din’s hands work their way up your body to your breasts. He touches them gently, feeling their weight and warmth against his palms. They’re soft, contrasting the cold, unforgiving metal of weapons he’s so used to holding. 

Your eyelids flutter shut, and you arch into his touch in an inviting gesture. 

This, the intimate and tender touches, is uncharted territory for the both of you. Din, so used to the restless pace of bounty hunting and the denial of security, most of all. But he finds safety in your arms, and more importantly, he finds a home. And you find the strength to be vulnerable with him, to tear down your walls and let him have everything, emotions and all. 

Din pulls off your shirt slowly, eyes drinking in every bit of your exposed skin. Skin he’s only felt in pitch black rooms, never seen until now. He takes in the sight of your skin, eyes raking over your body greedily. This is what he was missing all this time? He swears he’ll never let you wear clothes again. 

His gaze is like gasoline to the fire stirring deep inside of you. You squirm under the weight of it, reaching out to pull him down and feel his chest against yours. It’s heavenly, and the delicious slide of his flushed skin against yours steals the breath from your lungs. 

Din’s hands travel down your body and his lips follow, sweeping over your stomach like a brush on a canvas. 

Your hips lift when he reaches the waistband of the panties you’re wearing.

He presses teasing kisses along the waistband just to watch you wriggle and hear you whine his name. 

Din looks up at you and smirks. You’re absolutely flushing with lust, bottom lip trapped between your teeth as you stare down at him with a wild and dangerous expression. 

He kisses your hip bone, and removes the last barrier between him and your body. 

You gasp fingers tangling into his hair as his tongue laps against your clit. He moves slowly at first, reacquainting himself with your taste, but your desperate whimpers fuel him on. 

Din looks absolutely sinful framed between your thighs. His eyes are heavy lidded, hair in complete disarray from your fingers. He moans when you tug the strands harshly, hips bucking into his mouth as his lips wrap around your clit. 

He slides a finger into your entrance and curses at the warmth of your walls. It’s not long before a second joins the first and they’re moving inside you, wrenching cries from your throat. 

Your thighs shake and close around Din’s head, and your moans grow higher in pitch. Telltale cues that you’re swiftly approaching the edge. 

He crooks his fingers up at the same time his mouth latches onto your clit and your whole body tenses as if jolted by electricity. 

You explode against his tongue, coming with a strangled moan. His fingers and tongue work you through it, and he groans as he swallows everything you offer him. But it’s not enough, it’ll never be enough. He’d spend his every waking moment between your thighs if you’d let him. 

You come down with a sigh, body going limp as the blood roaring in your ears settles. Din kisses up your body, waiting for your breathing to return to normal. 

When he kisses you, you taste yourself on his tongue. It’s intimate, a taste only the two of you share. 

A dazed expression rests upon Din’s face when he pulls away. It quickly turns dark when you rub your pussy against his clothed crotch. You tug on the waistband of his pants impatiently. He gets the message and sits up to take them off and toss them carelessly across the room. 

“Lay down.” You push his shoulder. 

Din does, looking up at you reverently. It’s a new position for the both of you, and he recognizes the appeal of it once your slick folds come into contact with his aching cock. He grips your hips, trying to get you to move, but you hold steady, shaking your head. 

“I want to look at you.” You say, and who the hell is he to refuse you when you’re sitting above him looking like  _ that _ .

You’ve never seen him naked, so you take him in, committing the contours of his body to memory. Your fingers run through the curled hair on his chest, trace over the corded muscles on his shoulders. They travel down his stomach, trace the various scars left from bounty hunting and other petty fights. He’s beautiful. 

Din lets out shuddery breaths at the sensation of her fingertips gliding along his bare skin. It’s an intimacy he’s never truly known, only experienced in dreams and rushed fantasies. His chest heaves when your lips join the fray, and a choked groan escapes the back of his throat when the tip of your tongue swipes over a scar on his chest. His grip on your hips tighten, and you cover his hand with your own. 

You rock against him, and his hips buck involuntarily. 

“Shit.” He groans and the sound reignites the fire between your thighs. 

Your lips move down the trail of soft hair leading towards his length, and you take it into your hand, watching the way his head tilts back and his throat strains. His cock is hot and heavy in your palm, and you pump him lazily, swiping your thumb over his tip. It’s flushed, sensitive, and dripping with precum. You lap at the salty beads, and the taste of him makes you dizzy. 

He’s moaning now, making noises you’ve never heard. Din’s usually so reserved during sex, but you’re making him feel things he’s never experienced, and he’s having a hard time keeping still, let alone quiet. He’s always tried to be so cool, but here you come, smashing into him like a wrecking ball, and leaving him completely destroyed. It’s almost embarrassing just how loud he’s being, but you love it. Every choked groan, every desperate huff of your name, makes you wetter, and you squeeze your thighs for some relief. 

You tease him until you can’t take it anymore, and then you straddle him once again. You both moan as you sink onto him slowly, reveling in the feeling of his girth stretching your walls. Din huffs sharply when you’re fully seated on top of him, eyes rolling into the back of his head as you clench around him. 

You start moving your hips, and his hands scramble for purchase. One lands on your thigh, the other grips your side tightly and they urge you forward. Your name is a mumbled prayer on his lips, repeated like a hallowed phrase or incantation. 

You lean down, peppering kisses along his neck, until you reach the spot that makes his breath hitch and his hips jerk into yours. He looks ethereal underneath you, completely blissed out, and edging towards his release. 

Somewhere in the overwhelming waves of pleasure, Din finds the strength to open his eyes. He watches you above him, entranced by the way you move and the way your face contorts as his cock trips over something deep inside you. He lifts his hips into yours, searching for that spot again, and you cry out when he finds it. He likes that sound, likes the way he can see your eyes widen and flash when you move just right. He never knew that sex could feel like this, but maybe it’s just because it’s with you. Din rubs his thumb against your clit, and you throw your head back. You’re angelic above him, shrouded in a halo from the light coming through the window behind you. 

“Din,” you whine, nails digging into his stomach. 

“I know,” he mumbles gently. “Come on.” 

Your back arches, and you fall against his chest as your orgasm crashes over you. You walls clench around Din in a vice, and his hips stutter.

“Fuck,” he groans, burying his cock inside of you desperate for release. This time he doesn’t stop the words that bubble up to the tip of his lips as he tumbles over the edge. “I love you,” he chokes out, burying his face into your shoulder. 

It doesn’t matter that you don’t say it back. Din doesn’t need you to, he can feel it in your touch, and the way you look at him. But he wants you to hear it, because he’s waited to say it to you for so long, and he doesn’t want to wait any longer.

Din’s hands grip your ass and he fucks his cum into you slowly, until he’s spent and oversensitive. When he’s done, he melts into a puddle, unable to move. He swears he’s died and gone to heaven, that’s the only explanation for the weightlessness he feels now. But slowly, he begins to register the coarse blanket under him, and your lips as they travel over his shoulder. 

He exhales shakily, and it makes you laugh. You kiss him slowly, lazily, rubbing your thumbs over his cheeks. 

“I missed that.” You rest your forehead against his. 

“Me too.” He smiles, and nudges his nose against yours, before kissing you again. 

You both lay in silence, just enjoying the stillness of the morning and each other’s company. Your touches are lazy, the kisses unhurried. There’s no rush, when you have the rest of your lives to do this over and over again. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for all your kudos/comments!  
> Find my tumblr: queens-n-roses.tumblr.com


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